An island song like a floating river
by spiritdream
Summary: Sasagawa Kyoko is a blissfully ignorant civilian.


She's leaning over the washing machine, elbow deep in crispy clean, soggy wet clothes. Her expression is one of deep concentration as she tries to get everything at once, faded jeans and beaten hoodies, torn T-shirts now free from dirt and blood. The sleeves of her pale, yellow shirt are carefully rolled up, leaving her forearms bare to the damp cold seeping from cotton and wool into the soft flesh of her skin. The load is heavy within her hands, weighted down by excess water, but her brows don't furrow, her mouth doesn't twitch and her eyes don't harden as she picks everything up without making a sound, and carries her load over to an empty basket lying innocently in front of the other girl.

Reborn stands in the doorway, the shadow of a man lingering on the periphery, and watches silently.

In contrast to Kyoko, Haru is a flood of words and trills of syllables as she gestures widely with a crumpled shirt, spattering tiny little water drops with every swing of her arm. Kyoko listens while she dumps her burden into the blood red plastic basket with an amused, indulgent smile on her lips, and gently pries the wrinkled clothing from the death grip of Haru's fingers as she diverts her attention with a not exactly meaningful, but just as deliberate question.

Reborn is a not a world-renowned hitman for nothing, even in the cursed body of a breakable infant, and observation comes to him as easy as breathing. He's been watching Kyoko for a while now - he's been watching her from the moment she called him cute, asked him why he's wearing a suit, then promptly deemed him cool before continuing on her way. He was expecting squealing, cuddling, or a combination of some other cooing sounds and hugging motions to his mafia speech; but there was nothing of the sort. Only a cheerful smile and unconditional acceptance before complete dismissal, and it threw Reborn off his game for a nanosecond - a feet even seasoned assassins couldn't do without ending up very quickly very dead in the process.

He's been watching Kyoko for a while, and he likes what he sees. People believe that Kyoko is as innocent as the first blanket of fresh snow covering the lake of Namimori's public park in winter - light and pure, gleaming white in the charming shine of the Moon; but Reborn glimpses sturdy ice underneath the dusty, delicate flakes.

It's the promise of those flashes of something more that he hasn't interfered yet.

He knows more fragile and delicate in the daughter of the Cottone, more innocent and fresh beauty in the heiress of Maranzano. Influence lies with the pretty doll of the Greco Clan, while raw power hides behind the soft, but hungry features of Antonino Graviano's niece.

Sasagawa Kyoko has nothing of those qualities. She's cute but rather plain, delicate but not nearly as breakable as a pretty little porcelain doll, naive when it fits her surroundings but not manipulative enough to use that characteristic consciously as an asset. As a potential wife to the Tenth Boss of the Vongola Family, she's a failure on a good day.

Sasagawa Kyoko is a blissfully ignorant civilian, completely unsuitable to life in the mafia world.

Yet, she's the one to take his explanation of time travel in stride, who washes the bloodied clothes of her brother and her friends without a hiss. Who cooks and cleans while keeping the training schedules in mind, who patches them up when practice and fights get a tad too rough and a lot dangerous.

Her anger is as fierce and deadly as a storm when it finally breaks free and demands answers, but her voice is soothing like pelting rain during the nights when Tsuna is haunted by nightmares. Her laughter is warm and bright like sunlight, her presence is a bolt of energy that keeps pushing Reborn's student forward. She absorbs despair and tension while giving hope in return as she hides under piles of snow, and plays her part in perfect synch with everyone's expectations, never breaking their illusions.

She takes everything as it is, adapting to unseen circumstances so easily not even Reborn believes he could. (And he couldn't, he thinks, his tiny little bird-like shoulders jerking at the memory.) She's the stable center of Tsuna's constantly shaking world, and she takes her position with grace and confidence, without an ounce of hesitation. Reborn was the one who started Tsuna on his path forged from blood and pain and power, who selected his guardians to accompany him on his quest, who continues to push him with tender kicks toward his next challenge. But Kyoko is the one Tsuna's chosen himself, _for himself_, and Reborn respects his choice for now.

Looking underneath the surface takes time and effort, but the glimpses he's caught until now make him curious enough to keep digging, to continue waiting until the snow melts and the ice breaks and the lake dries, so he could see what Tsuna sees in her, like Reborn sees the potential simmering beneath Tsuna's skin, waiting to break free and consume living and dead in its powerful flame.

Reborn watches Sasagawa Kyoko from the sidelines, catches trembling waves of strength and fluttering flashes of power under layers of ignorance and time. He sees the effect she has on Tsuna, waits, and believes she will be an equal partner to his charge.


End file.
